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Mar 11, 2017

I have seen my surgeon, and he said there is not much he can do at this point except a biopsy on the liver to see where the primary cancer is. His best guess is the pancreas. I had a CT scan and looking at the images were pretty scary. Right now, we are working on controlling the pain and nausea.

I have my biopsy next week, so hopefully that will let me begin treatments. I saw my oncologist, and she is wonderful. She was very supportive, and hopefully she can slow the progression some. Sometimes when I am alone now, I worry about dying. Not so much a fear, but the mess EJ will have to deal with.

I reached out to my brother and sister. My brother told me I should talk to my family, and I thought well I thought you were my family. I thought wrong, I guess. I really don't have any close friends up here in the northern neck of VA. Most of the people I care about live in Smithfield, and West Virginia. I need someone to talk to, of course, but there is no one. I can, of course, again, talk to EJ, but maybe its best I let him deal with all of this in a way that is comfortable to him.

Feb 26, 2017

I think I called myself a cancer survivor one too many times. I have recently been diagnosed with metastatic colon cancer. It is already in my liver. I am frightened, and not really believing it all right now. I will have a CAT scan tomorrow to determine the extent of the cancer. The next day I will see a surgeon, and the next week, an oncologist.

I can't bring myself to tell my son yet. I don't have life insurance. Doesn't that beat all, huh? I have considered becoming a body donor after I pass to MCV. I will have to get some insurance but I will have to survive for at least 2 years. I would like to live much longer of course, but the odds are against me.

I hope it will be possible for me to have surgery to remove it all, even if they can only give me a bottle of whisky and a stick to bite on. I have heart disease, so I'm not sure how all this will work out now.

My first go-round with colon cancer was back in 1995, just after I had turned 40. I tolerated the surgery and the chemo well. I didn't receive my full course of treatments, though. My husband, bless his heart, decided it was time to quit his job and move to Georgia. I had stopped working at this point, so the timing wasn't the greatest, but that's the way it goes sometimes.

I think I am more frightened for my son, EJ, than myself. He lives with me and has done so pretty much since my youngest son died in Iraq. I just don't know how to tell him.